


Nine Months is a Long Time but Forever is Longer

by quasar_concept



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: ACL injury, Alternate Universe, Banter, Dialogue Heavy, Fluff, Gay Panic, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Injury, Injury Recovery, Light Angst, M/M, Physiotherapist Kuroo Tetsurou, Pro Volleyball Player Tsukishima Kei, Recovery, Slow Burn, Sports Injury, They maintain a patient/doctor relationship until they are no longer patient/doctor, Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi Friendship, Tsukishima Kei is a Mess, side bokuaka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26596849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quasar_concept/pseuds/quasar_concept
Summary: Tsukishima is a professional volleyball player recovering from acl surgery.His regular physiotherapist is - to Tsukki's disdain - about to head on maternity leave.Kuroo is a physiotherapist.Kuroo is - to Tsukki's disdain - a very attractive physiotherapist.[written for Luna and Noir Fest 2020, prompt #026]
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98
Collections: Luna & Noir: KuroTsuki Fest 2020





	Nine Months is a Long Time but Forever is Longer

The reception of the physiotherapist smelt like a hospital that had gone through the washing machine with homey fabric softener. On this particularly sordid day in late April, Tsukishima Kei was not having it, nor its faux-comfort. Even though he knew from the start that his regular physio -- the kindly strict Dr. Yamawaki -- was going on maternity leave, he was really dreading having to go over the details of his injury and surgery, and his three-months-done recovery. 

Ok, so Yamawaki would do most of the explaining, but it still meant he had to get used to, and somewhat trust, another person. 

Shit, he wished his knee would fix itself. Or, better yet, he wished his ACL hadn’t torn in the first bloody place. Then he wouldn’t have to be completely useless and bored and in pain. 

He wouldn't readily admit it, but his heart positively burned with loss when he watched his team play without him. He wasn’t sure what hurt more -- his knee or his chest. 

“Tsukishima Kei, please head to room three,” a tinny and clipped voice sounded over the speakers. 

Tsukishima could have avoided the curious looks from a receptionist and a girl in an ankle brace, but he liked Yamawaki. She was good at her job, and she'd done a great job helping him when he busted his ankle in college. Not that he didn't like the team’s physio, but if he was going to “take a break, Tsukishima,” as his coach put it, he wanted time to actually, well, take a _break_. 

He loved volleyball. He cared about his team. He really wanted to keep playing. He was going to go crazy if he couldn't play again, but he was _exhausted_. It was exhausting to be at your best all the time, every game, every tournament. Playing both for his club and the national team at an excruciatingly high level was hell on his body. No one was telling him to play if he was sick, but if he wasn't sick he had to give all of himself and a bit of tomorrow's self to reach that level. He wanted to keep playing but-- 

\--Far out, he was tired. 

He knocked twice on the closed door. 

“Come in!” Yamawaki smiled at him as he ducked his head under the frame. He tried to smile back. 

“Have a seat and I'll introduce you two.” She gestured to the tall man, with thick, dark, unruly hair that looked like a hastily and unsuccessfully tamed bed head. “This is Kuroo Tetsurou.” Oh no. “He’ll be in charge while I’m on leave.” He’s _hot._

But we don't have time to unpack all that, and even though Tsukishima couldn't help but notice Kuroo’s well-toned arms beneath his polo, we're going to stuff those emotions deep down and pretend they don’t exist because that's _never_ hurt anyone. Can you hear the nervous laughter? 

“Nice to meet you,” Kuroo said, sending Tsukishima a polite smile. 

“Likewise,” Tsukishima replied with a short bow.

“Have a seat, Tsukishima-san, and we’ll talk specifics on how this transition will work and answer any questions you have.”

The impulsive bird twittering in his brain begged him to ask if Kuroo was single. Every other part of his brain held it back because _no_. Instead, Tsukishima got comfortable on the edge of the cot.

“So, as you both know, we have added an extra two weeks on the end of the regular nine month treatment, largely because we want to ensure you’re all good before we send you back on the court,” Yamawaki said. “So far it seems likely that those final sessions will be simple exercises you could do at home, but they will also serve as the final checkup to give you the green light.”

Tsukishima nodded, “Okay.”

“Before we continue, I’ll leave you two to get a bit more acquainted while I grab some pieces of paperwork.” Yamawaki neatened a small stack of paper and shuffled out of the room, the door closed softly behind her.

Tsukishima hesitantly leveled his eyes with the man in front of him. 

“You look a little young to be a doctor,” he said. 

Kuroo cackled, his lips resting in a smirk. “Thanks. I am a physio, though, I promise. You can just call me Kuroo though, if you’d like. No need for sensei this sensei that. We’ll be working together for a while, might as well get comfy, right Tsukki?”

“Tsukishima, please, Kuroo-san.”

“Ah, of course, sorry.”

The heater was just loud enough for it to fill the air with awkward tension. Though they were both abohorring the awkward silence, Tsukishima was certain Kuroo would talk his ear off the moment Yamawaki was gone. His loud cackle echoed in Tsukishima’s mind and it took all of Tsukishima’s self control not to scowl.

Loud people were fine, he supposed, but Kuroo’s voice was rough and just a tad grating and not at all something Tsukishima wanted to listen to three times a week, for two hours at a time. 

Tsukishima sighed in relief when Yamawaki reentered the room with a small file of paperwork. He smiled and noticed the happy and glittery stickers adorning the otherwise formal plastic file. Of course she’d cover it with kid stickers.

“Well, sorry for the wait, let’s get these documents signed boys! Then I’ll be out of your hair starting Monday.”

* * *

The generally pleasant warmth of May was stifling and uncomfortable, despite the soft sun dapling through the clinic window. 

It was strange, Tsukishima thought, not having a light, gentle conversation going while he reclined on the bed. In fact, it was straight up uncomfortable. _Kuroo_ wasn’t uncomfortable, he was nice, and smiled when he greeted Tsukishima, but he was also -- somehow -- incredibly quiet. 

After almost half an hour of awkward silence as Kuroo manipulated and stretched Tsukishima’s knee, Tsukishima was wondering if he’d greatly misjudged Kuroo’s personality. Neither of them had said a word outside of polite greetings and Kuroo’s occasional instructional interjections. 

Tsukishima glanced at the clock - twenty minutes more. 

Usually he was content with quiet, but the incessant ticking of the clock, and uncomfortable air, made him itch for his headphones. 

Kuroo opened his mouth to say something, then must have thought twice because he shut it again and lathered a foul smelling salve on Tsukishima’s knee. 

Well, screw it. “That smells awful.” 

“It does, but eventually you become immune.” Kuroo smirked. So maybe Tsukishima hadn’t misjudged Kuroo’s personality entirely. 

“Similarly, I suppose, to overzealous teammates?”

Kuroo’s eyes crinkled when he laughed. “A bit like that, yeah,”

“Doesn’t make you want to google insults though.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened, amused. “Oh, that’s hilarious! Do you do that for everyone?”

“Never said I gave in to those cravings, Kuroo-san,” Tsukishima met his eyes. “The volleyball idiots give me plenty of content on their own.”

“I bet they do,” Kuroo laughed. His tone changed slightly, though it was still carried by soft humour. “I’m sure someone’s already asked, but how are they handling missing their best middle?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m their ‘best middle,’ but thank you,” Tsukishima said. “They’re being supportive, keeping me up to date and stuff.”

“That’s good.” Kuroo kneaded his thumbs into the back of Tsukishima’s knee. “Anything particularly entertaining?”

“Bokuto-san keeps sending me memes, and a lot of owl facts.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes. As if that's going to put him back on the court. “His enthusiasm is appreciated, I suppose.”

Kuroo laughed, lifting Tsukishima’s leg and pushing it towards Tsukishima’s chest. “Sounds like Bo,”

Tsukishima raised his eyebrow. “You know him?” Kuroo seemed familiar with volleyball positions, it wouldn’t surprise Tsukishima if he also knew of the national ace. 

“Yeah, we've been friends since high school,” Kuroo said. “He and Akaashi both.”

“They’re very good to each other,” Tsukishima said, and hoped Kuroo knew what he really meant. If not, well, ‘good friends’ is good enough for historians. No good outing one of Japan’s most popular players - his _friend_ , Tsukishima reminded himself - to, well, anyone. 

“Disgustingly so,” Kuroo smirked.

“They share a whole ass _house_ ,”

“I’ve been,” Kuroo made a face of mock-disgust. “Very domestic. I crashed from the sugar high after I left.”

Tsukishima huffed a laugh and settled into warm silence.

“Push back on my hand,” Kuroo instructed. Tsukishima complied, digging his foot into Kuroo’s palm, but the previously comfortable silence now crackled with a low nervous energy. 

“Bo really wants to come out.” Kuroo sat back on his stool and gently placed Tsukishima’s knee back on the bed. “Publicly, I mean.”

That was news to Tsukishima, though now all of Bokuto’s ‘wish Akaashi were here’ at events and such were made much more substantial than just whining for his boyfriend. Tsukishima himself had never wanted to come out publicly - not while playing anyway. He had never, and likely would never, find someone he loved like Bokuto and Akaashi loved each other. He didn’t understand sharing something so personal. Though he supposed, for Bokuto, sharing his love for Akaashi publicly was as important as it was for Tsukishima to tell Yamaguchi. That excruciating frustration and mind numbing fear, he understood well.

“He hasn’t mentioned anything to us, but now that you mention it, it sure seems that way,” Tsukishima said. 

“I think he’s scared people will blame Akaashi for ‘turning him gay’ or some nonsense,” Kuroo huffed. “But it’s hurting him to have to pretend like they’re just friends when they meet out.”

“At this point it wouldn’t hurt his career.”

“I think he’s more worried about Akaashi.”

“Probably.”

“Go warm down on the treadmill, two minutes, keep it under five k an hour.”

Tsukishima slowly sat up and made his way to the treadmill in the corner. Tsukishima could see just how damaging those headlines could be, if Bokuto were to come out. Bokuto, largely, would suffer some slandering for the rest of his career, but he’d not lose much. For Akaashi, who had finally, _finally_ , just landed a full time job as an editor for a publishing company, it could be far more damaging than a ruined ligament - that can be fixed. No matter how proud a person is of their sexuality, some asshole is going to claim they can be fixed. There’s nothing to fix, but they’ll say it anyway. 

“Alright, Tsukki,” Kuroo said. “Any questions just send me an email, and you’re free to go.”

“Thank you, Kuroo-san.” Tsukishima bowed. “Kuroo-san, I think you should talk to Bokuto-san,” Tsukishima said. “He should talk to Akaashi-san about it. He just needs someone to tell him.”

“Ok Tsukki,” _Shit, Kuroo’s smile is cute,_ “I will. See you Friday,”

Tsukishima nodded politely, the nickname flying over his head, and closed the door behind him. 

Was it the conversation or Kuroo that made his heart race? 

The conversation. Definitely the conversation. It had to be the conversation; there was no reason for Kuroo to make Tsukishima’s heart race.

Except that he was extremely attractive, a great listener, good at his job and his hands. Oh, god, his hands.

And Tsukishima stopped that train of thought, the rising heat in his jaw unwelcome, thank you very much. Kuroo probably didn’t even like guys. That, of course, is not an assumption he should make, but he needed to get rid of this stupid crush (of course he had a crush _now,_ he couldn’t have been done with the stupid crushes in high school or anything, no he had to keep having them as an _adult_ ). 

Tsukishima desperately needed Yamaguchi to help him. His best friend had dealt with his majorly mortifying crushes in high school - helped _Tsukishima_ deal with them. Maybe Tsukishima had a thing for guys with arm muscles? Though realistically, he’s really more into thighs (looking at you, Sawamura Daichi), and if he was into arms it would mean that his high school senior Sugawara wasn’t his type. Really, if arms were his thing, the only person that he’d had a crush on that _was_ his type, was freaking Tanaka. Well. And Kuroo.

Hopefully, his crush on Kuroo wouldn’t be as mortifying as his crush on Hinata. _That_ had not been fun. (A traitorous part of Tsukishima whispered that Hinata was - albeit, more subtly - his type, too. The _rest_ of Tsukishima staged a coup. No. Absolutely not allowed.)

Tsukishima wanted to scream. 

Luckily for him, he didn’t have to - his saviour had arrived in the form of freckled and smiley Yamaguchi. He could let out his scream in short bursts of snark instead.

“Hi Tsukki!” He beamed. “You ready to - oh no.”

“‘Oh no’ what, Yamaguchi?” Tsukishima asked, opening the passenger door.

“You have that look on your face.”

“What look?”

Yamaguchi rushed behind the wheel, slamming the door behind him. “The ‘I have an unreasonable crush that I don’t want to admit to having’ look.”

“That’s not a look I have,” Tsukishima pouted, though he knew he did. It was far too insanely specific for him _not_ to. 

“You totally do, and what you were making just then was definitely it, so spill.”

“My PT is hot, that’s it. There’s nothing more to spill.”

“Sure, Tsukki.”

“Yamaguchi-”

“I’m not gonna shut up until you gush. Get it out of your system Tsukki.”

“No, there’s nothing to get out, there’s nothing to tell you. He’s hot, that’s it.”

“You’re so red, Tsukki! Ya-chan is going to have an absolute field day when I tell her.”

“You _won’t._ ”

“Oh, _I will_ ,” Yamaguchi smirked. “Tell me the details now or I’ll set her on you.”

“You are the worst friend in the world,”

“Yup! Now spill!”

“He’s hot, kinda shitty personality though. Entertaining, I guess.”

“Feeling some _doki-doki_ in your _kokoro_ , are you Tsukki?”

“I'm divorcing you for saying that.”

“Tsukki, we’re not married.”

“I don't care. No one should ever be able to have friends and get away with that sentence.”

Yamaguchi laughed and turned onto the highway. 

The silence was awful, Yamaguchi glancing at him every so often. Tsukishima sighed and relented. “Fine. Maybe I have a tiny crush. Maybe he’s super kind to his friends and loves them a lot. Maybe he’s funny. But I don’t know if he’s single, and I definitely don’t know if he likes guys. Even if he _did_ I’m barely half a step out.” Tsukishima said. “Besides, he’s my doctor, that’s weird. I’ll get over it, it’s just a crush.”

“Well, that was detailed.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

“I was expecting a ‘he’s hot but-’ not like. A full list of things you like about him.” Yamaguchi said. 

“Well, now you really can’t set Yachi on me.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that.”

“Yamaguchi-”

“I’m joking!” He laughed. “I’m joking. You’re fine.”

Tsukishima slumped into the car seat and glared at the grey sky. “This sucks though.”

Yamaguchi looked over, voice tinted with concern. “Tsukki?”

“I just want to. Not have to worry that I’ll finally be interested in someone and then they won’t want me because I can’t come out.”

“That’s hard, Tsukki. You can’t know beforehand, and you can’t change who you fall for.”

“I know that, I just wish it wouldn’t…”

“Hurt?”

“Keep happening.”

“Twice isn’t really that many times.”

“It’s enough.” 

Tsukishima closed his eyes and sighed again. “Right, well that’s enough emotions for today.”

“Tsukki, no! Don’t let the robot take over!”

“It’s too late, the human is gone. ‘Tsukki’ is no more.”

“No!”

They laughed at each other’s stupidity, and the car was warm, and the air was bright, and freezing air bellowed on around them.

* * *

“Kuroo-san, do you have a girlfriend?”

Kuroo blinked quickly, confused. “Why?”

“Nevermind, you don’t have to answer that.” Tsukishima turned away.

“Hmm, well. In case you don’t mean that, and because I feel like it, I will have you know that while I haven’t had a girlfriend since high school, until January I had a boyfriend.” 

Tsukishima drew a sharp breath. Boyfriend. Kuroo had a boyfriend. He was… well, Tsukishima couldn’t say, that wasn't for him to decide, but Kuroo was interested in guys. 

“Is that…” Kuroo’s voice wavered, almost unnoticeably. “Is that a problem, for you?”

“I’m happily friends with Bokuto-san and Akaashi-san, why would I have a problem with you?”

“They don’t touch you every week.”

“True. But I really don’t care. It’s not my business, it’s perfectly normal. You’re fine, Kuroo-san.”

“I got fired, from the last place I worked, because one of the managers didn’t like that I had a boyfriend,” Kuroo said. 

“That’s shitty, and shouldn’t have happened.” 

“Yet our government prefers freedom of speech over protecting people, so,” Kuroo hummed noncommittally, and turned the focus around. “What about you, Tsukki? Anyone in your life?

“No. Single by choice. No one is interesting enough,” Tsukishima said. “Mostly girls just think I’m attractive or something and don’t care about anything else.”

Tsukishima’s stomach rolled with nausea and he hoped Kuroo wouldn’t ask if he found any _guys_ interesting because he didn’t really have an answer. Sure, he could reply ‘not my thing’ but that would be entirely untrue and Tsukishima Kei was a lot of things, but a liar was not one of them. They very much _are_ his thing but ‘ _plausibly deniable’,_ amirite fellas?

“They should care.”

“What?”

“They should care. About you. You’re pretty cool.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “Not really, but it would be nice if they cared about more than how ‘professional athlete’ sounds after ‘I’m dating a.’”

“Tsukki, you’re definitely cool.”

“After that mess of a sentence you should be able to tell that, really, I’m not. Ask my friends.”

“Oh, okay.” Kuroo smirked and Tsukishima’s heart skipped a beat. How could he forget about _Bokuto?_ “I will.”

**Akaashi Keiji**

Tsukishima-san, Bokuto has been requesting you come for dinner

Let’s organise a time

* * *

* * *

Six months into recovery and Tsukishima thought he was _over_ the excruciating pain.

He was wrong.

The bolts of lighting spiked and throbbed under his knee and he silently wondered if maybe he could go back to having crutches - they wouldn't stop the pain but he wouldn't make it worse when he barely moved.

Tsukishima winced as he practically fell onto his back in Kuroo’s office and embarrassingly felt the need to cry. It almost felt worse than before the surgery, surely he hadn't ruined all his progress overnight.

“What seems to be the problem, Tsukishima?”

“It hurts.” He was thankful his voice didn’t crack, but he wanted to swear, so badly. 

“How so? Be specific.” The sound of Kuroo’s stool rolling around the floor was a sadly decent distraction. 

“A lot. Burning, a bit. Sudden sharp pains on the side of the front.”

Kuroo gently cradled Tsukishima’s leg, and prodded softly. “Well, your muscles are all positioned correctly, and the pain you're feeling seems to be stemming from a lot of tension in your thighs,” Kuroo concluded.

Tsukishima relaxed under the feeling of Kuroo’s hand spreading a strong-smelling salve over his knee. It was fine, he was fine, he’s just _tense._ He hadn’t completely derailed his recovery, it was all _fine_.

Well, except the unrelenting, angry throbbing. 

“Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?” Kuroo suggested. “And I’ll do my best to ease this pain for you.” 

“I’m very boring, really.” _I’m gay, I’m only out to my brother and my childhood best friend._ Pain makes you want to do strange things, apparently including coming out to your - very hot, very kind - physiotherapist. 

“I don’t believe you,” Kuroo chastised. 

Tsukishima hoped to high hell he didn’t have to start this conversation - he would regret whatever topic he chose. 

“What would you be doing if you hadn’t gone pro?” So much for coming out of this conversation not looking like a dork.

“Studying natural history,” Tsukishima said. From the look on Kuroo’s face, Tsukishima had said it much too fast for Kuroo’s liking. The man’s train of thought was clear: Had Tsukishima been thinking about not playing anymore? Was that why he had such a fast answer? His career in division one was so far short lived, his time with the national team barely a season long. He had no intention to retire now. Did he? Tsukishima saw Kuroo bury his concern and focus back on him. Tsukishima was glad Kuroo didn’t let that train of thought leave the station and enter the spoken word. He didn’t have an answer - not one that was, without a doubt, what he wanted, anyway. 

“You want to study rocks?”

“Fossils, specifically, but yes.” Tsukishima flinched when Kuroo massaged his fingers hard into the sides of his knees. 

“You telling me you’re a dinosaur nerd, Tsukki?” 

“They’re very interesting,” Tsukishima defended. 

“This is going to hurt a bit, I’m sorry - tell me about your favourite dinosaur.”

“It’s fine-” Tsukishima clenched his teeth, holding back a pained grunt. “My favourite dinosaur is a compsognathus.”

“I'm sorry, what the hell is that?” Kuroo choked. “That sounds fake,”

“It’s my favourite dinosaur, and it’s not fake.” 

“Really? How much of your favourite is it?”

“Entirely my favourite.”

“Any ‘fun facts’?” Kuroo pitched his voice high and childish. 

Tsukishima pouted. “Not if you’re going to make fun of me about it.”

“I think if I make fun of you for dinosaur fun facts when I tell the worst chemistry jokes, I’m probably going to hell.” Kuroo laughed. 

Tsukishima cocked his eyebrow. “Chemistry jokes?”

“Yes, but don’t change the subject Tsukki!” Kuroo waggled his finger. “I want those fun facts! Bo told me you were a dork, I want proof.”

“He did, did he?”

“Yup!”

“Well, now you won’t ever get to know about my favourite dinosaur.”

“No! That’s not fair, Tsukki!” 

“Tell me a chemistry joke. I might consider it, if I think you’re funny.”

“Get ready, Tsukki, I’m hilarious.”

Tsukishima hummed, unconvinced. 

“Well, sometimes I tell chemistry jokes, but they don’t always get a reaction.”

“That. That is a terrible start.”

“But all the good ones Argon!”

“Worse.”

“Okay, okay. Sixteen sodium atoms and Batman walk into a bar.”

“Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na, Batman,” Tsukishima deadpanned.

“Rude, stealing the punchline.”

“Get better jokes, Kuroo-san.”

“I heard oxygen and magnesium were going out and I was like, OMg.”

Tsukishima smiled. “One more?”

“I think you must be made of copper and tellurium because you’re--” And that was not a chemistry joke, that was a full-ass pickup line. 

“Cute?” Tsukishima finished. Nevermind the blood pounding in his ears.

“Yeah, cute. It’s pretty clever right?” Kuroo forced a laugh, and didn’t look up from where his hands were resting on Tsukishima’s knee.

Awkward as it was, Tsukishima _did_ like it. It was dorky, the sort of thing someone might say in a high-pitched mockery of asking someone out. Whether or not Kuroo had meant it was a problem for 3am, but in the moment, Tsukishima didn’t want to go back to the awkward silence of the first few months.

“Someone at Universal didn’t do their research and screwed up the Compsognathus’ scientific name,” He said. “Making it, the only recognised species was _Compsognathus longipes_ , but in _The Lost World_ someone rambles about _Compsognathus triassicus_ , which isn’t a thing.”

“Huh.”

“The puppets were actually pretty impressive though,” Tsukishima said, and he felt a little more of the tension leave the room as his voice lightened. “For the knowledge available in 1997, when the theories on dinosaurs being feathered were relatively new, they were largely accurate.” 

“How long has the feathered dinosaur thing been talked about?”

“Since about 1859, though initially it was only thought that avian dinosaurs -- the ones that evolved into birds -- had feathers, but since about the late 20th century people have been studying non-avian dinosaurs and it’s been theorised that all dinosaurs had feathers of some form.”

“You’ll have to tell me more next time, because we’re just about done.”

“You want to hear me talk about dinosaurs?”

“It sounded cool, and you were successfully distracted,” Kuroo said. “More importantly, you seemed happy, so. Yeah, I do.”

“I was expecting more teasing to be involved,” Tsukishima said honestly. 

“There can be, if you want?”

Tsukishima shook his head. “No, talking about it seriously isn’t something I get to do often, even with Akaashi-san.”

“Well, we’ll just have to fix that, won’t we, Tsukki?” Kuroo smirked. 

“Yes, I guess we will.” Tsukishima neglected to remind Kuroo that they were only going to see each other for another two weeks before Yamawaki came back.

Tsukishima ignored the strange tugging in his heart at that thought. That wasn’t enough time for all the dinosaur facts Tsukishima wanted to share. Wasn’t enough time for much at all, really.

He supposed he’d just have to talk quickly. 

**Tsukishima Kei**

Akaashi-san, please tell Bokuto-san to have fun at the training camp, and not to worry about me.

I’m free any time after Bokuto-san returns, as my final appointment is the week before.

Please let me know when works best for you.

* * *

* * *

Tsukishima blearily waded into the lounge room and was greeted with Yamaguchi grinning far too wickedly for this early in the morning. He quietly cursed himself for not scheduling his appointments with Yamawaki in the afternoon. 

“Morning Tsukki!”

“Yamaguchi, shut up,” Tsukishima groaned. “It’s way too early for scheming.”

“Tsukki, it’s ten thirty. Hardly early at all!” Yamaguchi waved his phone, sniggering. “Besides, you’re going to love what I found for you.”

“If it involves your coffee stench I don’t want it.” Tsukishima flicked the switch on the kettle and clattered around for a tea bag and his mug.

Tsukishima rested his head on the cabinet and listened to water rolling and churning, waiting for the faint click that indicated he would finally get to begin regular brain function. 

“I’m going to wait until you’re not handling boiling water, but you really _really_ want to see this, Tsukki.” Yamaguchi said. 

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, and left his tea to steep. 

“Hurry up then,” he said and leant over the back of the couch. 

Yamaguchi shoved his phone into Tsukishima’s face and _oh no._ Every fibre of Tsukishima’s brain screeched to a halting stop because that is _Kuroo Tetsurou_ with a shoulder tattoo in a muscle shirt. 

Screw hot headed athletes, this right here _,_ the toned arm caressed with an intricately woven design sketched into it, the annoyingly pretty grin, _this_ was Tsukishima’s type.

“I found his Instagram,” Yamaguchi cheered. 

“So what?

“Tsukki, you’re like. Fully red - well, as red as you go - you’re not going to pass off nonchalance.”

“Why’d you even try to find it?” Tsukishima seethed. 

“I just wanted to know if he had one, seeing as he’s friends with Bokuto-san too,” Yamaguchi ignored his friend’s incredulance. “I was half expecting it to be private.” 

“Fine but don’t- Yamaguchi, why are you following him?” Tsukishima would deny that he screeched, but really there was no other description for the sound that left his mouth. 

“Relax! He doesn’t know who I am,” Yamaguchi said, and continued scrolling. “Now hurry up, you’re going to be late.”

Ah, shit, Yamaguchi was right. 

Foregoing brushing his teeth to make the earlier bus, Tsukishima popped a piece of gum and tripped on his shoes.

“I’m off.”

“See ya.”

He silently sent a word of thanks to his friend as he stepped, perfectly timed, onto the bus. He sat, and leant his head against the cold glass, soft guitar riffs playing through his headphones. 

While Tsukishima technically didn’t have to take the bus, it guaranteed he would get to the train station at just the right time to not have to race for the train, or push past any people who walked as though they didn’t have any place to be but in the way.

While no different, his appointment was later than usual, closer to lunch than he’d usually like, and he cursed when he saw the packed platform at the bottom of the escalator. 

No way he’d be getting a seat -- he’d probably be lucky to get something to lean on that wasn’t another person. 

With a deep roll of his eyes he pushed with the crowd, moving in a strange mix of slow and fast and _shit watch your bags you fucking-- that hurt_. 

The doors closed and trapped far too many people in a tin can with wheels, and through a lul in his music he heard a familiar voice. 

“Hey Tsukki, fancy seeing you here.” 

“Fancy,” Tsukishima said.

“On your way to your appointment?”

“Yeah. I assume you’re heading to work?”

“Of course! Though I’m particularly free at the moment, for some reason.”

“Well, you have four hours a week free you didn’t before,” Tsukishima pointed out. 

“That’s true that’s true,” Kuroo said.

The train lurched, and Tsukishima, to avoid falling on the stranger beside him, elbowed Kuroo as he stuck out his arm to grip the bag rack. 

“Sorry,” he said.

“Nah, don’t mention.” Kuroo tapped at his phone to keep it unlocked as a wave of people pushed the two tighter against the door. 

“Do you have Instagram? Like, a private one or should I just follow your team-sanctioned one? Normally I would add you on LINE, but I have Instagram open,” Kuroo chuckled.

“Yes, Kuroo-san, I have Instagram,” _and I really don't want you to see that my best friend already followed you_.

“Great! Do you wanna type your username?” Kuroo asked and awkwardly dangled his phone in front of Tsukishima. 

With a shallow nod Tsukishima quickly typed his on-reflection-incredibly-stupid username, pressed follow before he could overthink it, and handed the phone back. 

“I'll accept you when I can reach my phone,” Tsukishima said, and desperately hoped his foot was on a bag and not Kuroo’s shoe. 

* * *

Tsukkiiiiiiii! Hi!!!!!

Answer meeeee plsssss

Hello Kuroo-san

Oh wow I didn't expect you to reply

you told me to

Idk didn't think you would

How’s the knee?

Good.

Yamawaki-sensei is good

Her baby is cute

That's good!

You like babies???

I don't mind pictures of babies, no

Real babies, I'm not fussed on but they can be cute

They are!

I'm really great with kids, if I do say so myself 

You would be

Though I can't see myself with any of my own

What's that meant to mean?!

You know what it means, Kuroo-san

I'm being corralled into asking if you want to be a ‘fun uncle’

Wow someone is getting you to do something you don't want to do? 

I thought you said you didn't have anyone in your life

Yeah? I mean, that'd be cool

Idk I've just not imagined having kids for myself

You? 

There isn't. He’s my best friend

Not really. I'm not very good with kids

I've looked after my brother’s kid a few times and every time the poor girl ended up crying and I had a headache it was not a fun combination 

It is always entirely my fault - she's adorable 

You didn't tell me you had a brother?

Wait

Tsukki

Does that mean you're the fun uncle!

He's nice. We had a falling out when I was younger

We're closer now. It's nice 

No. I'm not sure fun uncles make their niece cry the few times they're left in charge

Tadashi is probably the fun uncle 

Oh. That's good that you were able to work it out.

Does he play volleyball too? 

lol are you a family of giants

Tadashi? Another brother?

It is; yes he does; he's not as tall as you; of sorts. Yamaguchi Tadashi is my best friend. I've known him a long time

Fun fun fun!

I sort of expected everyone in your family to be tall lol

Oh! That's nice. My best friend is awesome, too. He’s CEO of a gaming development company, and runs a YouTube channel.

How have we never talked about our best friends

I was under the impression that Bokuto-san was your best friend

Ahh that's fair. We are very good friends that's for sure 

But no one can replace Kenma

Hi hi this is Tadashi

KENMA AS IN KODZUKEN AS IN KOZUME KENMA??!?!!!!

Hi! Yes, that's him! 

Also, Tsukki is very tight lipped, yet I'm offended I've never come up in conversation -_-

Haha yes, I've noticed! To be fair, I hadn't spoken about Kenma either so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

HOLY MOLY KENMA WOW WOW OK SAY HI

Tsukki wants his phone back (you are forgiven, I have yet to decide Tsukki’s punishment)

(Wow thank you I'm honoured) I'll be sure to say hi for you

Sorry, Kuroo-san

Ahh Tsukki! You're back! 

Yamaguchi seems nice

He does. He's not

Lol

… 

Hey

Yes?

Are you doing anything on Thursday?

Not particularly 

I'm free

Do you want to go to coffee with me?

Like

a casual thing 

Sure, Kuroo-san

Oh! Really? That's great!

What time?

I can work around you. Don't you work Thursday?

I only work the mornings! 

Is the afternoon ok?

Of course.

Where, and what time?

Tokyo Station? About four?

There are a few nice cafes around there

Sure. I’ll be there. 

* * *

The coffee shop wasn’t busy, the strange time working in their favour, and the peaceful, late-afternoon sun dappled through the tree growing outside the window.

Kuroo had said casual, though his outfit was smart and comfortable, the soft browns glowed with warmth in the amber light. Tsukishima felt underdressed in his ratty, grey knitted jumper and simple jeans (though Kuroo had said it was ‘cute’.) 

“I should come see you play sometime,” Kuroo laughed. “You're just about done with your physio, right?”

“One more session on Friday.” Tsukishima nodded. “But, Kuroo-san, do you even know what volleyball is?” 

“Tsukki!” Kuroo scoffed. “You wound me! I’m best friends with Japan’s ace!”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes at Kuroo’s dramatics. “That doesn’t mean you understand the game, Kuroo-san.”

“I actually used to play.” Kuroo’s smile turned wistful. “All through school, and even a bit during university, too. Haven't played in years though. Too much studying,” he said. 

“Did you like it?” Tsukishima took a sip of his latte.

“I was our captain.” Kuroo didn't know what to do with his hands, and a wet look entered his eyes. “I love it.” _I miss it,_ said his voice. 

“You could join a recreation team?”

“Haven't had the time to look, honestly,” Kuroo said. “Between my Masters and coming out at my previous job going to shit, and trying to not be unemployed, I’ve just.” He sighed. “Been really busy.”

“I can always have a look for you,”

“What? No, Tsukki, you really don’t have to.”

“You don’t have to commit or anything. I could just. FInd some teams that are around. Send their information to you.” Tsukishima shrugged. “It’s not like I don’t have time.”

“Tsukki, that would mean a lot,” Kuroo said, watching his tea swirl in the mug. “But that’s a lot of work.

“Kuroo-san, I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to do the work. I’m bored. Let me do this for you. You’ve done plenty for me, I want to pay you back.”

Kuroo cracked a smile. “You quite literally already paid me.”

Tsukishima glared. 

“But I guess if you want to! If you want to, that’d be fantastic.”

Tsukishima nodded. “I’ll have to start looking then.” 

He picked up his muffin and let the soft sugariness melt on his tongue as the comfortable quiet of the cafe sat at their table. 

Both Tsukishima and Kuroo finished their drinks faster than Tsukishima expected, and Tsukishima found himself somewhat upset that their time was up.

They walked back to the station, a friendly distance apart.

“Thank you for the food, Kuroo-san.”

“Thank you for the date.”

Date? Oh. Oh, they were on a date. (Tsukishima wondered if this is what Yamaguchi meant when he said that Tsukishima was socially dense. It probably was. Maybe. Yeah. Just maybe.)

“Y-yes. Thank you, too.”

“I’d like to do this again, Tsukki. If you would? It doesn’t have to be coffee or anything, just like, another date of some kind, you can pick if you want-”

“Yes, Kuroo-san. Next time. I look forward to next time.” Tsukishima felt as though his face was on fire, and briefly thanked the designer of genetics that he doesn’t go bright red.

“Next time.” Kuroo smiled.

Next time. 

* * *

Next time was far sooner that Tsukishima was prepared for, and if he had _known,_ he would have worn something nicer. 

“Tsukishima, I’m so sorry I forgot to let you know. Bokuto just invited him this morning,” Akaashi explained. Tsukishima slumped against the fridge, definitely _not_ pouting. 

(He was.) 

“I don’t mind that he’s here.”

“You sort of seem to,” Akaashi said, not looking up from where he was cutting up vegetables. 

“I _don’t._ I just. Wasn’t prepared.”

“Prepared?”

“You do realise how good he looks, right?” Tsukishima said quietly. 

Not quietly enough, apparently, because Akaashi stopped and stared right at Tsukishima’s face. 

“You have a crush on him.” It wasn’t a question. Most of the things that Akaashi said weren’t questions, and it both irked and satisfied Tsukishima intensely. 

“No.”

“Yes, Tsukishima, you do. And it’s fine, I promise. You can tell him about it, or you can just let it run its course. Both of those are easier said than done, I know, but either way is perfectly fine, and either way is good.” 

Tsukishima barely registered that Akaashi had spoken a giant amount.

“I don’t think it’s a crush, Akaashi-san. I think I,” Uh oh. “I think I like him more than that.”

“Ah. Well. Talk to him, then.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

What a wonderful question. Too bad there were so many answers floating in Tsukishima’s head he couldn’t focus on just one reason not to talk to Kuroo. 

“Tsukki!” 

Akaashi and Tsukishima snapped up to see Bokuto gleaming up from the couch. 

“Yes?”

“You found a rec team for Kuroo to join!”

“Oh. Yes, I did.”

“That’s so unlike you, Tsukki!”

“It’s not a big deal, Bokuto.” Though by the look on Kuroo’s face it _was_ a big, huge, amazing deal for him. 

“Sure it isn’t.” Akaashi smiled. Sure. It is. Tsukishima likes Kuroo -- no, _loves_ \-- Kuroo and it _is_ a big deal.

It is. 

* * *

* * *

“And there it is! A fourth amazing shut out from Japan’s middle blocker, Tsukishima-senshu, securing Japan’s victory, and getting them closer to winning this year’s Asian cup!” 

Over a year without the roar of his blood in his ears and Tsukishima had forgotten just how powerful he felt. He could hear nothing and everything, the shifting of his teammates behind him, the touch of his eyelashes on his face, the way his uniform lightly hughes his skin. The crowd was nothing more than a blur of red and white, the Argentinian blue hardly registering at all. Every moment he was being pulled deeper and deeper into volleyball-idiot territory, and he wondered how he even forgot in the first place. 

“Tsukki! Tsukki! Nice kill!”

“Thank you, Bokuto-san.” 

“You were so cool! You’re the MVP, totally totally.”

“Bokuto-san, stop hugging me, we need to go line up.” 

Through the thrumming in his ears, the elation of his heart and the will-deny-them-to-his-dying-breath-tears, Tsukishima barely registers the line-up, the hand shakes, the game awards. He barely registers that Bokuto was - somehow - right, and he did win MVP. 

Even after they entered the changerooms, adrenaline finally starting to leave, Tsukishima barely registered anything at all before the press conference. 

“Tsukishima-senshu, you’ve made an absolutely phenomenal comeback after your injury. What sort of support did you have that led you to be here with your team again so soon?”  
Tsukishima cleared his throat, and a small smile danced on his face unnoticed by himself. “I of course had my teammates, friends and family, staff both here with the National team, and at home with the Frogs. I also met an amazing person who really pushed me to be better, and listened to problems I had both in regards to my injury and mental health. He -- he helped me a lot.”

And _fuck_ he said too much. He did, that was way too much no one needed to know that, Tsukishima you absolute buffoon. 

Fortunately for Tsukishima and his racing, unruly brain, the reporters turned the rest of their questions to the captain, Aran Ojiro, and the rest of the team and spared Tsukishima from embarrassing himself further. 

Forever thankful for the time restraints, Tsukishima bumbled his way through questioning and somewhat concerned looks, before he burst outside into the dark winter that was nothing like the cold of loneliness he felt back in May, and everything like the cold of a romcom. Though maybe that had more to do with a certain crazy haired, golden eyed, gorgeous individual leaning against a battered little Toyota.

“Kuroo-san?”

“Told you I should come see you play some time,” Kuroo grinned. 

Tsukishima’s eyes crinkled behind his glasses in a silent laugh. “Well, if that’s the sort of luck you bring, maybe you should.”

“You… Tsukki, you’re amazing.”

“Oh, it wasn’t too bad, I’m sure I can do--”

“Not your playing.” Kuroo interrupted. “Well, that was cool too, but. I mean you. Specifically.”

“Oh.” His cheeks were red from the cold. Just the cold and the excitement of winning. Yeah. That’s it. 

Kuroo stepped closer towards him, moved his arms to brace softly on Tsukishima’s elbows. Tsukishima could feel Kuroo’s fingers trembling in a way he had never felt before, in a way that made him seem far more unsure that he had any right to feel because Kuroo was Kuroo, and Kuroo was confident and funny, and kind of an idiot but somehow the smartest person Tsukishima knew.

“I like you a lot, Tsukki, and I was wondering if… maybe you’d want to… I was just wondering--”

Tsukishima put Kuroo out of his misery.

He’d intended to just press his mouth to Kuroo’s. He intended for it to be over in less than a second. 

But then he actually listened to the part of his brain the rest wanted to riot again. 

He actually listened, and he pushed himself a bit closer, draped his arms around Kuroo’s waist, closed his eyes and sighed when he felt the brush of Kuroo’s surprisingly soft hair brush his cheek. With hardly a hesitation, Kuroo snaked his arms around Tsukishima’s neck, pulled him down to make up for those small centimetres, and ran his tongue over their lips. 

Tsukishima’s eyes fluttered open.

“Sorry, was that too much?” Kuroo asked.

“It was fine I’ve just-- not kissed anyone like that before?” Tsukishima didn’t intend for it to be a question.

Kuroo laughed, and pressed their foreheads to rest together.

“I’m gonna take this to mean you like me too?”

“You only just noticed, did you?” Tsukishima smirked.

Kuro spluttered, indignantly. “Mean! I am very observant, Tsukki!”

“Sure you are.”

“I am!”

“Sure.”

“Come home with me?”

“I’m. Is that okay?”

“Would I have offered if it wasn’t?”

“Maybe. People do that to be polite.”

“I promise you, I’m not just being polite. I really want you to sleep over.”

“What are we, school children? ‘Sleep over?’ Really?”

“Hey! Don’t judge my word choice!”

“I don’t know how I fell for you, really I don’t.”

“It was my charm.”

“It absolutely was not.”

“It was!”

“Not; It was your arms, but sure. Say it was your charm if that makes you feel better about yourself, Kuroo.”

“Well, I like your legs, so I guess we’re even.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Thank you, I take great pride in that.”

The air might’ve been cold like a romcom, but at least there were no parents to flicker lights, and no need to kiss at the door. No, they could kiss forever, if they wanted. And they kind of wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> Kuroo's no less than 28, and Tsukki is no less than 26 (o˘◡˘o)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading (〃＾▽＾〃) I'm super proud of this piece!
> 
> Thanks to legend-of-the-fandoms for beta-ing part of this project! Thanks to my GuAva for being the best enabler and super helpful with beta-ing and motivation! 
> 
> And finally... thanks to executive disfunction for making it a million times more difficult to finish this project -_- /s
> 
> Whoop!!! Hope you enjoyed this fic! Comments and Kudos are amazing ☆ ～('▽^人)


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